Broken Arrow
by Adamantium Arrow
Summary: Future!Fic When Artemis' hectic job as a police officer at Star City PD takes an emotional turn, her already broken mind finally shatters on her five year anniversary. The ending is a little cliche, but feels will definitely be played with. Pairings; spitfire. Sad!Wally Suicidal!Artemis. Oneshot


**This is set after Endgame, and characters will be OOC.**

 **Thanks for reading :3**

 ****DISCLAIMER****

 **I do not own any of the characters. They're owned by DC and Cartoon Network or wherever they used to show blah blah. I'm just writing fanfiction. Borrowed them a bit, if you may.**

Artemis Crock couldn't concentrate sitting at her desk in Star City PD, tapping her feet obsessively and straightening her uniform periodically. She had finished all her work, and was highly bored of the stuffy bustle that was SCPD Headquarters, so when her partner called her to assist on a case, she jumped up eagerly, grabbing her keys, coat and sliding her weapon into her holster.

It was weird not using a bow or a crossbow like she was used to but now that the Team was disbanded, America didn't have much need for the heroes. She chose the career path as a police officer, as she felt that she needed to help people. She wanted to do forensics, but her science skills weren't that great, so she settled on being a cop. Besides, making arrests, car chases and interrogation did keep her mood mellow and give her some of the adrenaline from her previous career as a hero. Keeping busy was the easiest way to forget her past, and as she was so fond of saying, her past didn't define her at all.

Upon arrival to the crime scene, Artemis wasn't too impressed, having seen much of the same things during her career. Blood, murder weapon, forensic scientists sweeping the scene, yellow crime scene tape all over the place. She lifted the tape and stepped into the room, gingerly avoiding the pool of blood when she spotted the body, hands away from the walls, which had once been a pale .

A male wearing a red flannel shirt and jeans lay motionless, his ginger hair matted and tangled as he was sprawled in a pool of blood, flecks of the scarlet like freckles on the pale skin. His freckled skin had bruises and ligature marks, like he had been restrained tightly. It also looked like rigor mortis had set in; the body was still and white. Bleeding had stopped a while ago but his heart first. But the thing that bothered her the most was his eyes.

The same shade of emerald green as Wally's.

Wally's.

Looking down at the lifeless green orbs, she could see Wally in them, staring back up at her, the ghost of a smile in their irises. Suddenly his features morphed into Wally's, and with a strangled scream, the blonde stepped back, tears forming in her eyes. Her hand crept up to her neck, holding a locket tightly like it was her lifeline. She closed her eyes, but the image of Wally lying dead on the ground was burned into her mind. Without a look bac k, she ducked under the crime scene tape, and fled the scene, ignoring the calls from her partner and CSI.

Running from the skyscraper, the blonde pulled out her phone and threw it into a gutter, not wanting to speak to anyone at all. All she knew was to get away from there, and in her crazy insanity, she did whatever she felt necessary, no matter how reckless. She took off her high heeled shoes as well, throwing them into a dumpster as her feet kept moving.

Tears were flowing down her face freely now and gasps wracked her chest as she struggled for air, frantically trying to get away from the crime scene, whereher Wally was lying there, dead and lifeless all over again. She had pushed the memory of him in the speedforce away, but this had awoke it, and the emotional trauma had unhinged her carefully suppressed memories.

The blonde kept running without a backwards glance, ignoring the broken glass and gravel that cut her feet, and the biting chill of the wind that whipped her skin. There were no tears in her grey eyes anymore, just pure grief and bitterness. She finally stopped in an alley, panting from exertion, dropping to the floor in tears, pulling her necklace off. Unclasping the pendant with shaking hands, she opened it, looking at the pictures inside.

It was of her and Wally, taken in the park next to his university, her on his back, both laughing with delight. She looked at the bittersweet memories, tears dripping onto the locket, blurring the image. Turning it over, she saw the other picture, her and Wally kissing, entangled in a embrace, her hands gripping him in a hug, his fingers embedded in her blonde tresses, the autumn serenity soft pigments in the background as the image blurred. But the love...it was evident.

With a sob, she closed the pendant, not bearing to witness the memories even more as the agony kept coming in waves. She broke down, crying bitterly in the alley, alone. It was when her hand caught onto her weapon that she realised it was there, and she ignored the pain of it digging into her hip until a sudden thought crept into her mind. She blinked, surprised at what had come into her mind, her grief momentarily replaced by shock.

It would be so easy just to pull the trigger now...

She couldn't do that. No. It was for the weak. She couldn't. But the little voice in her head told her it would alleviate her pain, she wouldn't ever feel hurt again. It would all go away, just pull the trigger, it told her.

Just pull it, it's going to be over soon. It'll be over. You'll be with him, Artemis. You'll be with Wally. You'll see him on the other side. You'll be with him. Forever. And nothing's going to take him away from you, her mind urged her, the pull of blissful painless darkness so tempting. And the fact that she could be with Wally.

That was enough. In her grief, she saw her one last coherent moment of complete sanity, and she told herself he would return, that he wouldn't leave her like this.

She put the gun down on the ground, pushing it away from her, trying to ignore the Voices that pleaded her to do it. She refused, crawling away from the weapon with a sob, not caring that her hand was cut by broken glass. But the voices and her grief took over, and without hesitation, the blonde reached out and grabbed her weapon, opened the safety and pressed the gun to her temple, her other hand gripping the pendant, the cold metal of the barrel comforting in a sick sense of relief. Like she knew it was going to be over, she was going to be with him. And It would be perfect, in their own little forever.

"I love you, Wally." She whispered through her tears. Her hand clenched, and the gun went off with a bang that broke the silence, scarlet blood exploding from the bullet wound, spraying onto the wall in a form of macabre graffiti. She smiled as her world went black and her eyelids closed for the last time, her life leaving her in a rush as her brain signals were interrupted by the bullet that had shot clean through, a wave of giddiness coming across her as she fell to the ground, limp and lifeless.

She would never feel pain again, and she would be with Wally. Her Wally. She would feel no pain, never again, and she could be with him. And they would be together. Filled with pure happiness and longing, Artemis Crock was finally at peace, with no nightmares and no horror to plague her mind.

Only a quiet solace, where she knew no pain and no anguish. Only the soft sweet embrace of the boyfriend that...wasn't there.

~ten minutes earlier~

Wallace West appeared outside of Artemis' apartment, holding a rose. He had just returned from the speedforce after a very difficult journey, and after paying a visit to Iris and Barry, he wanted to see the love of his life, the girl who changed it all, the girl who kept him going, the girl who forced him to keep running. The only reason he was alive was the fact that he couldn't give up on her.

He wanted to apologise for being gone, and hug her and never let her go. Knocking smartly on the door, Wally waited for her, the rose between his teeth like the men in the movies. He didn't have a tuxedo on but his battered suit would have to suffice. He waited for ten minutes, before a gunshot from the alley beside him pulled him out of his trance, the hero in him sparked by the resounding echo of the shot.

Torn between seeing Artemis and the gunshot, his hero instincts took over and he zipped to the alleyway beside her apartment. What he saw astounded him.

A woman with long blonde hair, dropping dead, a pistol in her hand. She was wearing a SCPD uniform, and she looked strangely like-no. No. It couldn't be. Wally ran over to her, taking a close look. She had an absence of shoes, and broken glass was stuck in her feet, her hands and face bloody as a nine millimeter gun lay limp beside her broken figure. Her holster had blood on it, and the badge on her belt said "1194". He looked at her lapel label, and he felt his blood turn to ice.

It said "Officer A. Crock". He finally brought his courage to look at her face, and it was her. Her full lips were as soft as he remembered, as his fingers traced her features, not caring that blood was getting all over his clothes as he cradled her lifeless body. Her grey eyes were closed, but he knew that he would never have been able to see the beautiful glow in them ever again.

Never again would the cheeks be rosy, never again would her arms embrace him again. He pulled her closer, his tears mixing with the blood on her uniform, emerald irises filled with complete grief. But nothing hurt as much as the betrayal.

How could she have done this, how could she have left him? How? He asked himself over and over again, angry and hurt. But deep down, he knew that her emotional wellbeing hadn't been the same since he had sacrificed himself, and he had been in the speedforce for five years. Still, he thought, I can't believe she left me.

He saw her hand clenched, and a gold chain protruding. He recognised it as her pendant, and when he opened it, he broke down sobbing once again, one hand holding his loves body to him, and the other holding the pendant. The ginger remained there for countless more hours, just holding her cold body as rigor mortise settled in, until the emergency services finally pulled him off, Wally numblyfighting and screaming for her, clawing at the paramedics like a tigress protecting her cubs. Tigress. He felt another pang of pain at the name.

Wally saw them placing her in a body bag, and was enraged by their seeming carelessness. How can you treat her just like another body? He wanted to ask them, question them. She's the best thing I've ever had, and now I'm back your going to take her away from me like that?

But as he calmed down in the ambulance, he realised it was his fault. He sacrificed himself for the world, and with that he had sacrificed the love of his life. And it was his fault she was dead. Wiping away the tears, he berated himself over and over in his head. Why didn't I come back one day sooner? Why did I visit Iris and Barry? If I didn't she might still be alive, he thought. He ignored Iris and Barry on the ride home when they picked him up, just holding the pendant and gazing out the window, verdant eyes listless and figure hunched over with despair as agony wracked him.

~Three Days Later~

Wally was dressed in black, standing next to a grave, holding an umbrella. A black coffin was on the side of the grave, a headstone already placed. Not caring that the funeral was only going to begin in two hours, Wally tiptoed over to the coffin, opening the lid.

.The blonde was restored to as lifelike as was humanly possible; the league had provided the best morticians possible. After the autopsy, the cause of death was confirmed as suicide, which was what the detectives suspected. Her blonde hair was smooth and soft, her full lips shiny with the cherry Chapstick that he loved.

Her cuts and bruises were covered with impeccable makeup, and the hole in the side of her head completely gone. Pulling out a small jewellery box from his pocket, he pulled out the pendant and put it on tenderly. With a final kiss to the forehead, Wally closed the coffin, seeing his love in person for the last time.

"I love you, Artemis Crock. I love you my spitfire. And I'm sorry." He whispered as darkness enveloped the blonde once more.

But she couldn't feel it. In her emotionless paradise she was gone too far. And she wanted to feel his lips on her forehead, and hear his loving voice once more. But death's ignorance had a price to pay, and this...

This was probably the greatest one of all.

 **A/N: A oneshot I wrote quite a while ago, I hope you enjoyed it!**


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